A Note From The Author: Greetings, everyone! This is my newest story, one I've been preparing for since… many months ago~ Prison life is always so very fascinating to me, and is a good petri dish for rich things like character development and relationships (except not at ALL). I have a deep-rooted love for the disgusting flaws and cruelties in the system. Well… perhaps I should phrase it differently. What humans define as judgement is intriguing, and has adapted over the years in strange ways. I hope to capture and convey that, and acknowledge the hardships of prison (and though this prison setting isn't nearly as hardcore as places like Oz, I hope the severity will hold some weight regardless). While I have some backseat knowledge of the slammer, most of my sources of reference come from TV shows such as Oz and more recently Orange Is The New Black. I've also looked into juvenile detention, legal laws in Colorado, and many stories from people who have been in the system before. Like I said, I have a pretty keen interest in the subject. If there are any details or inaccuracies you find in this translation of prison (I know this isn't max, even though most of the crimes committed were pretty serious. I don't want despair to entirely overshadow every other element of this story, so I'm bending the rules a little.) PLEASE tell me so I don't look like a careless idiot xD I'll address you and note the correction if need be.

I do not own South Park or any form of anything aside from this story. Title of chapter is by Whitechapel. This is rated M for violence, sexual themes, dark themes, substance abuse perhaps, and whatever else I feel like including. You've been warned. I sincerely hope I don't inspire anyone to do anything illegal- if I have I apologize and you better pray to GOD you don't get caught! This chapter is merely an introduction of the lifestyle you can expect and several characters. There will be these following pairings for sure: Bunny, Style, Candy, Dip, Cryde, and perhaps I'll include a goth kid orgy somewhere. Reviews are greatly appreciated, but I won't demand them from you. Thank you for reading this shit~ 3

CHAPTER 1: THE SAW IS THE LAW

"Squat and cough."

"Um… w-what?"

"You heard me. Squat your scrawny white ass down and cough." The blonde prison guard glowered down at me, pinching together her perfectly penciled eyebrows in frustration.

I was naked. Entirely naked, and it was entirely humiliating. This whole experience was humiliating. Here I was, presenting my bare behind to this attractive lady who was prepared to do… something to me with a flashlight. Perhaps it would've been better if I wasn't lined up with a bunch of other guys who were also butt-naked.

"Umm… whatcha doin' back there, Miss?" I asked, nervous about what was going to happen to my rectem. It's true that my knowledge of prison was very limited, to put it kindly. I didn't like not knowing what Miss… Stevens, according to her name plate, was thinking of doing to me. Heck, I wasn't even technically in prison yet and I was already super jittery.

"What do you think she's doing back there, stupid? Checking your ass for coke. Or whatever else you can fit up there." A gravely voice next to me wheezed, and I looked over to see a skinny man with gangly and rather greasy dark hair. He seemed alarmingly underweight and I could probably count each one of his ribs if I really wanted to. His eyes were rimmed in black and his pale flesh was inked out in skulls and scrawly letters. He reminded me of a piece of used parchment.

I wanted to ask him who he was, but I was more concerned with his words at the moment. "Wha-"

"Christ! Cough already!" Snapped Miss Stevens, tapping her dark boot against the white floor tiles theatrically. Complying, I did as I was told and I watched in my peripheral vision as she examined my rear with her little flashlight. Despite my humility, I let out an unintentional chuckle. "What the hell are giggling about, Stotch? You think this is something to laugh at?" She asked roughly. This lady may look real pretty, but she sure was mean. It was all the same to me, though. Women only made me feel nervous and self-aware. Maybe that's why I like men.

"No ma'am. I was just choking a little, since you asked me ta cough and all." I bit my lip. I didn't even know why I HAD to cough in the first place. Tattoo Man said she was looking up my anus for drugs, so why did I have to cough? Are the throat and the butt magically connected or something?

Miss Stevens seemed satisfied. "As you were, then." And she moved on up to Tattoo Man, who sighed dramatically and coughed like a chainsmoker. Judging by his yellowing teeth and the scent of his skin, he probably was. Eventually, our prison guard inspected the rest of us for illegal contraband and yelled angrily at the muscular African American in our sad little group after she pulled out a small plastic bag. I groaned in disgust and looked away, catching a glimpse of Tattoo Man rolling his eyes in sheer boredom.

"Is this your first time in the slammer?" Tattoo Man piped up as were got in line to have our fingerprints taken.

"Yeah. This place is really big! I thought it'd be a lot smaller." I replied, cringing inwardly at how awed I sound. You gotta stop talking like that, Leopold. People don't seem to like you talking like that here. "W-What about you?"

"Well, I've been serving time for about six years now. Moved on down here once my sentence got shortened." Tattoo Man explained tiredly, shuffling up in line. "Still got another six left."

"At least you've reached halfway!" I replied, trying to lighten the mood. This guy sure was a downer!

"It's not half anymore. Not until I get to three."

That didn't make much sense to me, so I changed the direction of conversation. "If you don't m-mind me asking… What'd you do?"

"I do mind." Tat Man cut in coldly. "Word of advice: don't ask people that unless you want to get ass-raped. But… Ah, what the hell. You're new." He caved, lowering his voice. "I burned down this faggy jock's house back when I was in college. Wouldn't of been that bad of a sentence if his little sister hadn't been inside. Wish I knew that before the place went up like a matchbox."

I immediately regretted asking. Luckily, it was Tat Man's turn to get his fingerprints done, and I watched in relative silence as he pressed his fingers in the little blue stamp pad before sloppily placing them against the document. I really needed to watch what I said around here. Most people seem to have it harder than I do.

We all finished up our fingerprints and made our way down the hall to a small locker room, where we were each handed a set of orange suits and a pair of flimsy shoes. Upon further inspection, I discovered a white undershirt and underwear in the fold of clothing too. We were all handed back the temporary IDs given to us shortly after we dressed. Apart from the Muscular Black Man and Tat Man, two others were with us: a brunette fella with a goofy grin short of a couple teeth, and a shorter blonde who seemed to be more like a boy than a man. I really hoped I didn't look as vulnerable as him, but the odds weren't much in my favor.

The other blonde and I accidentally made eye contact as we were dressing and he dipped his head in polite acknowledgment. Well golly, he didn't seem so bad. The again, I wasn't sure why he was here yet. In turn, the five of us deposited the clothes we had been wearing into plastic ziplock bags. Now the only reminder we had of the outside world was the skin on our backs, I thought dramatically. Miss Stevens waited rather impatiently for us to finish before courting us out to a vehicle. We drove together in the small van to the interior building, where the real prison was. It was finally happening. I was going to be in prison. For three years. What will this place do to me? Will I become a lowly filthy monster? Or will I manage to get some thicker skin and take care of myself for...365 plus 365 is… plus another 365… 1095 days?! Was that for real?

"Oi! Blondie! Stop daydreaming and get your ass outta the car!" Snapped Miss Stevens, who I was liking less and less. But it wasn't entirely her fault she had a shitty job, yeah? Either way, I scooted off the seat and onto the ground with an apologetic grimace. Somebody told me before I came here that if you're nice to the guards, you'll get more benefits than the others. And that definitely sounded like something I would need in this place.

The black guy in our group scoffed a little and slumped out of the van after me. He seemed surprisingly gentle, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared of him. His arms were massive and little pink scars were littered all around them- one scar even went up his chin to crack through his full lower lip. He clearly had been in some brawls.

"What you looking at, sunshine?" He asked, his voice rich and deep. He didn't sound angry- almost as if the question were mandatory. But all the same, I stuttered into a shocked, awkward silence.

"I-I'm really s-s-sorry." I managed, fighting his gaze. "I don't want any trouble."

"Then stop looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I ain't gonna rape you, you know." He chuckled heartily, openly enjoying my panic. "The name's Token. Token Black." Was that some kind of joke? He held out his hand and after a frightening pause, I took it with as much firmness as I could muster.

"Leopold Stotch." I replied. "It's nice to know at least one person won't rape me." I couldn't help but warily look over at the brunette who seemed high off of something and clearly unstable. I was surprised to notice an eye patch covering his left eye socket. How had I not seen that before? Now I feel bad for thinking poorly of him.

"Just keep your head low and try your best to avoid any attention. You'll get by fine." Token continued. "You might want to get some tattoos or dye your hair or something though. Your looks won't do you any favors here."

I gulped slightly, aware that even for 25 I still looked no older than a senior in high school. He had a pretty logical point there, and I was thankful that someone here seemed to care about my well-being. "Thanks. I'll… keep that in mind."

"But, if someone does rape you, you just make sure you come crying to me." He winked, revealing an unnerving, mischievous smirk that made me highly doubt and question everything he had just told me.

"Uhh, right." I laughed awkwardly, a small bead of sweat forming at the side of my forehead. After the rest of our rag-tag group hopped out of the van, we followed Miss Stevens into the prison's interior walls. She lead us briskly down some bleach white walls, and other inmates were standing off to the sides as we walked around them. Several of them were eyeing me and the other blonde man up and down with an alarming look in their eyes. I'd rather not stick around to find out what their intentions were.

"Step in here." Miss Stevens informed me after she has come to a stop in front of a small door. She briskly ushered to the others to wait outside as I stepped forward nervously and pushed open the door. Inside was a camera and lights positioned and facing around a white backdrop. Behind a glass wall was a handsome man in his late twenties. He wore an identical

I stood and watched in silence as he approached me and walked around the glass panel. "Hi, I'm Stan Marsh. I'll be taking your ID picture." Before I could introduce myself he continued. "Step in front of the backdrop and face the camera. This will only take a second, I promise."

He gave me a reassuring smile before the lights flashed, and I decided I liked this Stan guy a lot. He seemed like he was concerned about me. I hoped this would be a trend here in prison.

A little while later, we stopped by the nurse's office and went through TB testing- not the skin kind, but the blood kind. I just hated needles, especially if it was for a blood test. The nurse was shaky and fidgety and missed my vein two times, causing me to really feel sore at those little brown eyes behind her pair of glasses. DOCTOR COTSWOLDS read her name plate. I hoped there was another nurse around here somewhere so I could visit them instead from now on.

Quickly after leaving the nurse, Miss Stevens shuffled me into another room, frowning at her watch. This room turned out to be an office similar to that of a principal's or a manager's. It was spacey but was surprisingly cluttered with junk and odd assortments that appeared to be collections. A stamp collection, beetle collection… there was even a lipstick collection, which was just plain weird since the person behind the desk was an older man. "I'm Mr. Mackey and I'll be your counselor for your time here, mmkay? Now- Leopold, was it? Leopold, why are you here in prison?"

"Umm." I sat down in the chair in front of him. "I-Isn't that on file?"

"Well, yes, but do YOU know why you're here?" He elaborated, picking up a ball point pen from an array of different types and flipping open a file marked STOTCH, LEOPOLD. Well that was plain embarrassing.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed. "I did somethin' pretty bad."

"Mmkay. And what was that, exactly?"

"I robbed s-some jewelry stores in Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma… Texas, I think, and New Mexico. Pawned the jewelry off in different states. F-Finally me an' my partner got caught robbing a bank h-here in Colorado." I stated as emotionlessly as I could.

"Why did you rob jewelry stores and a bank, Leopold? Do you know?"

"Yeah, 'course I do!" I stated a little defensively. "We both needed the money. Both of us were pretty decent fellas back in college, but I was gettin' nowhere with my major in art and Dougie… well, he was just tired of being so straight-laced all the time. So one night we decided to try robbing a nearby 7-11. Just to see if w-we could. Well, as it turns out, we were caught on camera. So… we just ran for it. And kept running until we had hit the next state over. It wasn't all that smart, I know, but each time we snuck out in the middle of the night to steal… It was just so exhilarating. Pretty soon, the money wasn't the reason anymore. We just wanted to see how much we could get away with. Before we got caught."

"Well, it's good that you know why you're here. Mmkay, that's real good. Tell me a little bit about your family life." Mr Mackey was writing down a lot of what I had said, though I wasn't sure why. He had it all on file, after all.

"I-I'm an only child." I started. "Both my parents are alive and well. They… they have pretty high expectations for me, so they were real sore when they found out about… you know, my stealing and such. When I got arrested I was more or less disowned from the family. But… truth be told, I'm kinda glad I was. Ever since m-my dad found out about me likin' m-men he's been trying ta f-fix me. We got in a pretty big arguement before I went to college."

"Mmkay. Will either of your parents be signed up on the PSI then? That's for visiting hours on every Saturday." The counselor replied a little insensitively.

"Um, no. Well, maybe my mom. Linda Stotch. And my Aunt Nelly." I said slowly, mulling over the list of people I knew and coming up with a grand zero. Dougie had been my only college friend, and he was sent to another prison in Colorado. My high school friends and I were never close, and we didn't talk often anymore.

"Mmkay, I'll give you some forms for them and after you they're filled out I'll give you a PAC number. You can call your family during phone hours and discuss visitation with them then." Mr. Mackey drilled me in, rifling through a stack of papers before handing me some. At least now I had something to pass the time with.

"Now," he continued. "This prison isn't terrible. I promise you that gang rape rarely happens here. The most that will probably happen to you will be robbing, and probably some men will try to move in on you from time to time, mmkay. Tensions heighten the longer you're in prison for, so watch out for that. Some inmates might try to use you as a punching bag, or might try to rape you in the showers. Try your best not to let them, mmkay? The guards will usually catch most of it, but we can't prevent everything. STDs are a huge issue in prison, and the only way we've managed to successfully contain it is by having protection readily available in the bathrooms. Your health is our number one priority, mmkay? Don't forget that."

The weight of our conversation sat upon my shoulders heavily. Suddenly, I wasn't feeling so optimistic about prison after all. "A-A-Alright."

"Mmkay. You're better get going then. Inspection is coming up pretty soon, and it'd be real bad if you were late. Don't forget that orientation is in the morning."

And with that, I stood up and left the peculiar man's equally peculiar office and hurried outside. Only to slam into Miss Stevens.

"Inmate! Back the FUCK off!" She snarled at me, brushing off her jacket sleeves angrily.

"Oh gosh! I'm so so sorry!" I yelped, praying to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that I wasn't smacked down and killed right then and there.

"Do it again, Stotch. I dare you." Miss Stevens swept her long blonde hair back and marched on crossly. "Warren, Donovan, Stotch. You'll be staying in Room B. Pirrup and Black, you'll be in Room E over there. Stand by your bunk when the light overhead flashes unless you want to get written up. A guard with come around and click you in. Move one inch from your spot by your bunk and there'll be problems. Understand?"

I nodded in response but felt idiotic since the only the other blonde inmate acknowledged her as well. Respect apparently wasn't how to make friends here. I really couldn't do anything right, could I?

We watched as Token and the blonde boy, Pirrup?, walked after Miss. Stevens. The Tat Man and Eyepatch Guy walked inside Room B with me.

We weren't alone. Inside were two other men, both of whom reminded me a lot of Tat Man, who was named either Warren or Donovan. The two in the room both had pale faces and sullen expressions, but one had red streaks in his hair that were quickly fading out and the other was a good two feet shorter than it looked like he should be. The Short One had a strange dragon tattoo on his cheekbone that stretched and curled along the right side of his face. He looked up from a book he was reading to size us up.

"Look at these posers." He sniffed, curling his lip up at us mockingly. "That blond one looks like a total fag."

"H-Hey!" I exclaimed, startled.

"Chill out, dude. Firkle's just teasing you. But really. Who the fuck are you people?" The red-haired man drawled, and I noticed that unlike the three of us these two had on tan outfits. I couldn't help but envy that a little.

"W-Well, I'm Leopold Stotch." I responded nervously, looking over to my two companions. I felt closer to these two now that they were the only people I even remotely knew here. I had a haunch that I was the only one that could feel this bond, however.

"I'm Michael Warren." Replied Tat Man with a cough. He moved towards the bottom bunk that was underneath 'Firkle', apparently claiming that as his own.

"I'm Clyde Donovan." Eyepatch Guy piped up, grabbing an extra pillow from below and tossing it up to where he was assumingly sleeping. I supposed I would take the bed underneath him.

"This is Firkle, and I'm Pete." Redhead stated simply, watching as we set up our pitiful sheets and pillowcases. "If any of you try to fuck him, I will knife you in your sleep. Got that? I got him into prison, therefore he's my responsibility."

Firkle finally payed attention. "You didn't GET me into prison, retard. I got me into prison when I raped that cop's daughter."

Pete huffed audibly. "Well, DUH. But if I hadn't punched the cop in the face and then pissed on him, you wouldn't have felt inspired to sleep with her. Therefore, my fault."

"Frankly, if you HADN'T flipped out on that damn cop, I would have. He was insulting our culture and claimed that our local heavy metal band had stolen a cover from Whitechapel. Clearly anyone would've pissed on his bleeding face after that." Firkle summed up, satisfied with his logic.

"Whoa, you two are apeshit crazy!" Donovan cut in, his mouth forming an amazed little 'o'. "I would never do something as awful as that to someone!"

"Oh yeah, poser? Why ARE you here, then?" Pete snickered, not seeming very offended by Clyde's comment.

"It all started at one of my frat parties." Clyde began, leaping up on his made bed creakily. "My friend and I were pretty high, and he dared me to walk around our town entirely naked. So I did. It was really funny how people would react- ladies would cover their kid's faces with their hands, people would whistle… I'm pretty well-endowed, so I didn't really have anything to worry about anyway. But some cops eventually heard of the guy running around naked, so I decided to go for a little road trip. 'Cause even stone cold sober it was fun watching people panic over something as simple as a naked dude. I went all the way from Washington to Colorado naked before I was caught. I was high at the time of my arrest, so I was a little violent. Kneed a copper in the balls, apparently. But my sentence is pretty short, so I'm not all that worried."

I was in awe of the dopey brunette before me and these two darker men. Compared to their crazy stories, my thievery was about as interesting as the nightly news channel.

"What an idiot." Pete laughed, and before Donovan could respond with a sharp retort, the light overhead flashed. "Aw, shit. Get outta bed you naked loser before the guard gets here!"

Clyde flew out of his bed and stood next to me comically. Despite his rather ignorant reasons for being here, he was alright. Maybe a little slow and not really my type, but that was forgivable. I was a little nervous about Pete and Firkle though. They didn't seem like people I wanted to upset, considering I didn't want to get piss on my wounds or my family raped.

I was a little relieved when it was Stan who came through to check us in. He gave me a small smile and a worried crease of the brow before disappearing. Shortly after he left, Miss. Stevens came in to double-check us, and gave me a not-so-worried glare. I was glad when she disappeared.

"S-So now what?" I asked the room, cautious about addressing anyone outright.

"Now, we eat dinner." Pete informed as Firkle bookmarked his page. "Come on, Blondie. Tonight's lasagna."

We stalked out of the room with the other inmates and all migrated towards the cafeteria. Faces swirled around me in a dizzying blur, and I chose to stick close to Clyde and Michael. We reached the cafeteria and I was shocked to see other fellow inmates working the kitchen.

"Hey, um… Pete?" I addressed the pale man, who looked up at me questioningly.

"What?"

"Can anyone work in the k-kitchen?"

"Why? You wanna be a housewife too?" He snickered. "Yeah, if there's a spot open. You'll have to talk to… Actually, that might not be a very good idea."

"Huh? Why not?"

"The head chef is absolutely insane."

"What? He can't be that bad…"

"No, really. You didn't hear this from me, but there's something seriously messed up with him." Pete insisted, casting a wary look towards the kitchen.

"I heard he killed a woman. Just 'cause." Firkle added, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Asked him how his day was and snap! That was the end of her!"

"No way…" I breathed, terrified of the person that would be making my meals from now on.

I thought about skipping dinner, but my impending hunger eventually won me over. I filed in line next to Clyde. Two men were serving us our food- one was very plain-looking and had light brown hair, and the other was striking. He too seemed rather simple, but instead of looking ordinary like the other, he was almost elegant. He had dark midnight hair and icy blue eyes. Long slender fingers encased the serving spoon as he served me some questionable broccoli. He was tall, thin, and seemed extremely serious about handing out the perfect serving sizes. I would've thought he was perfect if not for the subdued animalistic fire in his light blue eyes. We were in prison, and he was almost certainly dangerous. Just keep walking, Leopold.

After I got my helping of dinner, I had the very immediate issue of where to sit. It was like high school antics all over again. I sighed and scoped out my odds this time.

Over at the closest table was the 'black clan'. Normally, there would be NO white people there whatsoever, but to my surprise there was, not just one, but two white men in the very center of the table, laughing like they couldn't be happier. I'm not a racist or anything, but I thought racial segregation was how you identified yourself in prison. Apparently not in this prison. And these two weren't just white either. One had a pair of crutches carefully placed underneath his seat, and the other was in an actual wheelchair. This prison seemed a lot nicer than I first thought! Maybe I should go sit by them.

But as I approached the odd group, I heard a low hiss and they all turned to stare at me incredulously. "What the hell are you d-d-d-doing here?" Spoke the man with the crutches.

"Uh.." I looked around at the men, who all looked ready to jump and shiv me. "... I-I'm sorry!" I squeaked and backed away. Gosh, that was embarrassing. Note to self: the only cool black person here so far is Token. Where was Token? I hadn't spotted him over at that table. I scanned around.

The first person aside from Token I looked for was Clyde, and at first I thought he had disappeared too, but he was leaning against a table talking to that really attractive guy serving food. Well, more like talking at him. The kitchen guy didn't seem too involved in what Clyde had to say. I smiled a little and looked back at the tables. A massive man with enormous biceps had decided to sit across from Firkle, Pete, and Michael, who were looking extremely irritated. Another man resembling the three darker guys was on the edge of the table next to the bulky guy. I couldn't see either of their faces from this angle. At another table sat Pirrup and, low and behold, Token, who seemed very uninterested in the blonde before him. The cafeteria was very crowded, and I couldn't tell much from the other faces I saw, so I decided to play it safe and sit by Firkle, Pete, and Michael.

"H-Hey guys." I greeted, sliding next to the huge man after a moment's hesitation. He won't kill you, Leopold. no matter how huge his hands are…

"Finally." Pete sighed, looking at me with subdued amusement. "I thought you were going to shit yourself over there. Why the hell would you approach the Black Table like that?"

"Yeah, dude. You've got to have some seriously balls for that." The massive man to my left rumbled. I glanced at him as nonchalantly as I could muster and nearly wet myself, much to my horror. He had a mop of messy light brown hair and dark jaded eyes- his expression so sharp he could have been in a war. His torso was enormous- not in an overweight way, but in a 'I Will Pulverize You' way. But what had startled me was his skin. Bruises shaded his jaw and right eye socket, and his lip had been recently busted open. He was even missing a canine. This guy truly looked like he belonged behind bars, and it rattled me to the bone that he was less than a foot away. "Don't ever approach the Black Table unless you have a clean-cut plan." He continued, noting and ignoring my analysis of him.

"Why is it the Black Table if there's…" I trailed off, uncertain of how to state my question without sounding like a racist asshole.

"If there's to white guys crippled as shit in the center?" The scary man finished, laughing at me in a booming way. "Those two are hardcore. Like, seriously twisted. They might even be a part of the mob or something. Don't let their appearances fool you." He lowered his voice. "They use their appearance to elicit pity. And when you back is turned… it's lights out for you. Truly terrifying." He snickered. "I'm Eric, by the way. Eric Cartman."

"Oh, well it's nice to meet you, Cartman! I'm Leopold Stotch." I cheered up, deciding to give this guy the benefit if the doubt. He seemed nice, at least.

"It's Eric. Call me Cartman again and you'll be sucking my dick each mealtime." He stated flatly, flitting his cold eyes to meet mine.

"Oh wow! I-I'm real sorry about that!" I gasped.

"I'm real sorry about that, Eric. Say it." He snapped stabbing a fork into his lasagna.

"I-I'm real s-sorry about that, Eric." I obeyed, trying to convey that I wasn't a threat.

"Good. Now give me half of your food."

"I...well… okay…" I resigned, scraping exactly one half of my food portions onto his plate. I don't think I like sitting here very much.

"Now, you Depressed Emo Fag Guys," Eric began, getting angry glares in response. "I need your help. Tucker's pretty scared by my higher status over him, so I think he's going to be getting some fuck buddies to help him gang rape me or something. Which means I need to do it first. Now, I know you guys are like totally gay and don't care about anyone but yourselves, but I need you to get your heads out of your asses and help a brother out. You just need to be a part of my gang so we can rape him. It's not a big deal."

Pete groaned and face-palmed. "No way, dude. You have Thorn. Give him some matches or something and spout some satanist bullcrap and he'll be at your beck and call. There's no way we'd rape anybody just so you could maintain your faggy little popularity."

"At least, not another guy." Firkle added nonchalantly.

"Fine, fine, I get the idea." Eric sniffed, trying to show us how hurt he was. "Don't help your friend Eric. It's not like he's ever listened to our retarded problems anyway or kept us company."

"That's right. You haven't." Pete stated in a deadpan tone.

"Well fuck all of you too! Me and Thorne will go plan out the end times and the extermination of the Jews!" Eric snapped, standing briskly. "You know, blondie, you seem pretty hardcore for having a babyface. You can tag along too."

"S-Sorry, Eric. I wouldn't know t-the first thing about r-raping anybody." I stammered, hiding my face behind my fork.

"What're you in for, anyway?" He asked rather cockily.

"R-Robbery."

"Oh? What'd you take?"

"Jewelry an' m-money. From a bank."

Eric's eyes glittered. "You can pick locks then?"

"Yeah, I'd say so. Dougie did most of 'em, b-but he taught me the basics."

"I'll be seeing you later, then." He said cryptically, and left without another word. The dark-haired boy who had been silent this whole time followed him obediently.

I watched as Eric and Thorne left, and suddenly something else caught my attention. At the table to our left was a man. He was blonde, young, and entirely alone. His face was lean and strong, and his clothes seemed too baggy for him, despite seeming to be the smallest size. His eyes were piercing and his dirty blonde hair was just past his ears and shaggy, but in a rough, attractive way. His eyes seemed weathered, like he had seen and been through a lot and as I looked closer, I could see that the cartilage on one of his ears was heavily pierced. He seemed pretty content with sitting alone. I watched as the nice guard I had met before, Stan Marsh, walked past him with a small smile. An object covered by a napkin was handed off to the man, who gave an appreciative grin in return. He hid the package underneath his table, but judging from the food he ate moments later, it was safe to say that someone had gotten a second desert.

"That's one you gotta watch out for." Pete stated, noticing my gaze. "That's McCormick. I know he doesn't look like much, but he's an animal when he's upset. He's been sent to solitary more times than even Eric. And, to top it off…" His voice quieted to a whisper. "He finds ways of escaping. Frequently. He just… disappears sometimes. And then weeks later he'll come back with an added sentence and some cracked ribs. Loads of people have tried beating him up for his secret, but like I said before, the guy is a total beast. No one knows how he gets out of the prison, and most people have given up trying to get answers out of him. It's just not smart to go fucking with McCormick. He and Eric have gone toe to toe several times, but never very seriously. But I bet if they got in an actual fight, Kenny would be the first to kick that bastard's ass."

"No way." Firkle cut in. "McCormick's a twig. Eric would crush him, hands down."

"Eric's only got brute strength though. McCormick's real fast, and always hits first, and hits hard. He's a witty asshole too. You forgetting that time he and I fought over the showers? He plays dirty."

"Yeah, but you're a pushover dude."

"Hey!"

I had lost interest in their friendly banter and glanced back at McCormick. He really was an interesting fella. And his piercing made him look pretty cute in an almost punky way.

"Does he hang out with anybody?" I interrupted suddenly, snapping the two out of their heated discussion.

"Who, McCormick? Not really. Like I said, most people are pretty wary of him because of his knack for fighting. I think everyone's a little bitter too- it's been years since any of us have gotten out from behind these fences. McCormick seems to come and go as he pleases. It causes a little resentment from the best of us." Pete changed the subject. "Anyway, you better finish your food, Dinner's over in a couple minutes.

Crap. He was right. I shoveled the remainder of my not-so-delicious meal down and walked through the crowd back to Room B. Shortly after we got settled in for the night, Stan popped by.

"So guys, I'm reminding you that tomorrow morning at 8:30 you have orientation. So wake up before that if you want to shower and have a breakfast. Also, after you get back from orientation, your new dorm rooms will be posted on your door here. I think all of you in Room B have a roommate, but don't quote me on that. Breakfast will start at seven and end at nine, but unlike other meals, you can leave breakfast at any time. We have a guest showing up for your orientation tomorrow, so try to be respectful. I have a feeling it'll be a little challenging this time…" Stan looked away and cracked a secretive grin. "Anyway, sleep well and don't be late for orientation! Here's a toothbrush, toothpaste, and some deodorant for you guys. Normally guards don't give this stuff to you at all, but I don't want to be totally heartless." He paused. "So if you rat me out, I'll give you a shot. Alright?"

This time, everyone nodded respectfully. "Good. Have a nice night everyone." And with that, he left.

After the many stealing speeches I've been given today, I hid my toothbrush, paste, and deodorant protectively in my pillowcase before laying down. It made my pillow a little lumpy, but the extra security was worth it. I kicked my legs out childishly in front of me and mulled everything over.

A lot had happened today. This place was so real, so depressing it was an undeniably hard adjustment. I didn't like constantly assuming my peers were up to no good, but if I didn't… I wouldn't have changed. All those times I was taken advantage of, bullied, used as somebody else's scapegoat… They would mean nothing if I continued to turn a blind eye and let it happen. I had to grow up already and take control of my own life. And right now, my own decisions led me here.

A thumping overhead snapped me out of my thoughts. Was Clyde having a violent nightmare or something? But the creaking was so rhythmic, it was almost like…

"D-Donovan? Are you...?!"

"Aahh… Hah.."

"H-Hey! D-Do that somewhere else!"

"Hold on… almost…"

I shot out of bed and through one of my flimsy shoes up at him in frustration.

"Ow! Ah… Ha!" The bunk bed stilled. Suddenly, I regretted throwing my shoe up there.

"N-Next time warn me a little first."

"Sure thing, hon."

I woke up that morning at around 7:00 AM feeling sore and tired. I'm one of those people that has to sleep on their stomachs, no matter the occasion. And apparently last night my lumpy pillow waged a war against the side of my neck and won. Sleeping in was something I was going to miss here.

The showers were a living nightmare. Privacy was a luxury that had no place in prison- even most of the toilet stalls didn't have doors. I was always self-conscious about my body- I didn't want to do anything in here. But I buckled down and stripped, praying to God no one would take advantage of me, before stepping into a shower. Apparently warm water and clean shower floors were other luxuries too refined for prison. To top it off, men were yelling at me to hurry after only two minutes of being in there. I sat down on a wooden bench and dried off next to Michael, who chuckled as I widened my eyes at a black spore living at the base of a sink.

But suddenly, in stepped something much more interesting than my black spiky sink companion. McCormick, the blonde who had sat by himself at dinner had walked in the shower room with us. I was immediately aware that I was staring, but I couldn't help it; the mysterious man had managed to capture my intrigue. Without a hint of shame he stripped in front of everyone and sat down on the bench directly beside me. He held his clothes in a loose ball and take this moment to look at me for perhaps the first time.

I was speechless in his deep, dark blue gaze.

"Who are you, Newbie?" He spoke, his voice velvety and tranquil. He didn't seem as scary as everyone said- in fact, his syrupy voice seemed to calm me down and make me feel even more self-aware than before.

"I… I'm… Stotch. Leopold Stotch." I finally managed, my tongue behaving like cooked spaghetti.

"Scotch? As in, the candy?" He asked, gracing me with a warming smirk.

"Um, no. Stotch with a 't'." I clarified, feeling like the world's biggest smartass.

"I like it. You kind of look like butterscotch too." He went on. "You know, you hair is all bright and blonde and whatnot. It suits you."

"Uh, th-thank you." I felt my face get hot, and couldn't help but fight off the beginnings of an embarrassing problem.

"Oh." He said simply. I panicked, certain he noticed my hard-on. "A shower's open. I guess I'll see you around, Butterscotch." He purred into my ear and departed abruptly, leaving me to watch his retreating… naked… self.

"You really have a boner for that guy, huh?" Michael spoke up, causing me to jump a little.

"No! I just find him i-interesting. He's so… content by himself. You know?"

"Not really, no."

I sighed and quickly to get changed before anyone noticed my slight arousal.

So that's is for Chapter 1! I apologize if this chapter was boring because of introductions and stuff- we still have quite a few more to go! And Butters' perspective won't be the only one told from. But he's one of the two main characters, and therefore relevant. I hope to improve my writing and stories in any way I can, so while I don't demand reviews, they are greatly appreciated. If any of the characters seem a little OOC, I kind of did that on purpose. These guys are in their twenties and thirties now, so I had to 'mature' them a little. Even though they're probably pretty immature since they ended up in prison xD Anyway, thank you so much for reading this chapter. I really appreciate you just taking the time to read this and give it a chance. I love you guys~ 3